


It's All in the Game, Sweetheart

by Lady_Clow



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Steve Rogers, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Sloppy Makeouts, Sloppy Seconds, Touch-Starved, Triggers, Wetting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-09 17:08:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3257753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Clow/pseuds/Lady_Clow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky cried, like a child; he didn’t even hear his Commander’s words. His mind was a blur of white and black, eyes unfocused; tears flowed down his cheeks endlessly. Brock sure as hell loved to see him like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> At the beginning I had an idea of a Stucky fanfic, with mentions of past abuse and PTSD and a bunch of hurt-comfort and a list of our favorite kinks (you know, what I mean, don’t you). In the end, it became like this. I’m warning you: **the tags, read them first, cause it's really, really graphic and dirty**. Oh, and one more thing: as you see, my English is quite bad and I really suck in grammar, so I’d like to have a beta for this work. Anyone willing to help, please just find me [here](http://ladyclow.tumblr.com/) and I’ll love you with all my heart!

Rumlow watched in pure satisfaction, as the Soldier squirmed on the bed. His hands were tied to the headboard by a single rope; metal hand disabled and dead. Of course, he was told “Behave” – simple command, which made him submissive and blank.

Well, not as blank as others thought him to be. Rumlow was the one to check it.

First of all he flipped the Soldier on the stomach – the ropes were flexible enough not to damage his flesh wrist by the angle, not that it mattered so much. The Asset healed every time anyway.

He admired the view a few seconds, then took one cheek in each hand and kneaded roughly. The Soldier whimpered into the pillow and tried to squirm from his grasp, but Rumlow began massaging his ass more vigorously. Suddenly he yanked the cheeks apart and licked his lips, drinking in the sight of small puckered hole. He wanted nothing more than to rip this sweet ass with one brutal thrust, wanted Barnes to scream his throat raw with agony, like he did in the forties, held captive by HYDRA, strapped to a table in Zola’s lab. He wondered if Schmidt allowed himself to try that ass – of course he did, no one can stay away from such a body. Rumlow smirked, spreading soft cheeks even wider, thinking about how Red Scull’s impossibly huge cock stuffed that hole full of cum.

“I wonder…” he muttered under his breath, rock hard at just the sight of the Asset posed like this, “about you and Cap… Fuck, I’m gonna come right now, just thinking about that!” he chuckled. “I don’t judge, of course. To have his precious Bucky back and not to taste him… Oh, I don’t think Cap managed to stay away from your ass either. Was it good then? Yeah, it was, I know it. Unless you like it rough… but I’m gonna try something different right now…”

He leaned over and licked his hole in one swift motion. The Soldier shuddered and whimpered, shifting his legs, but Rumlow pinned them with his weight and licked again. Then again. And then just pressed his mouth and began licking and sucking in endless pace.

The Asset’s whimpers became moans pretty fast and Rumlow hummed in satisfaction against his hole, clenching his trembling ass more tightly. He relished the sweet moans, which became sobs after a while, when he simply fucked the Soldier’s hole with his tongue.

Barnes was sobbing and moaning almost hysterically by the time he flicked his tongue over the tight ring of muscle, now wet with split, and flipped him on the back again.

Of course the Asset was painfully hard, pre-cum trickling from the tip of his cock. But the order was “Behave” and it didn’t include erection.

Brock clenched his dick in hand and squeezed hard, making the Asset sod from pain. His skin was sweaty all over, eyes glazed and lips parted. He was panting weakly, tears streamed down his pretty face.

Brock sure as hell loved to see him like this.

“You want to come, don’t you?” Rumlow smirked and tapped his swollen cock with a finger, tearing a sobbing whimper from his captive prize. “Or…” finger traced down slowly and stopped at the pink ring of muscle, “…you want some big, fat cock up in your nice ass?”

Bucky cried, like a child; he didn’t even hear his Commander’s words. His mind was a blur of white and black, eyes unfocused; tears flowed down his cheeks endlessly.

Rumlow shoved two fingers in his mouth and barely stifled a moan at the feeling of hot, wet tongue on his skin. He switched his hands, shoving fingers, wet with spit, into Soldier, who sucked two other fingers in his mouth, like they’re a cock. Rumlow waited another ten seconds, and then suddenly bobbed his head down and devoured Bucky’s dick. Soldier screamed and arched off the bed. Rumlow jerked back and slapped his swollen cock. Hard.  
The scream pierced through the walls, filled with pain and anguish. Bucky’s hole squeezed Commander’s fingers and Brock moaned out loud in deep satisfaction, watching as he came hard, seed splashed on his stomach. The Soldier sagged against his bonds, totally wrecked and spent. His eyes went absolutely dead, face blank.

“Good boy” Rumlow cooed, liking his tear-stained cheek.

Bucky was shaking violently with aftershocks, but stayed completely dead to the world. Rumlow untied his legs, but he didn’t even twitch. No whimper, no whine came from him when Brock bent him in half, pressed his knees into the mattress, and began fucking him in earnest.

“How does it feel?” he breathed, slamming into the desired body. “You’re so fucking tight, every fucking time, I still can’t believe it. You like rough, don’t you? Of course, you like it, when someone just poke you with his huge cock, I bet Cap’s driving you crazy with pleasure that time, when he drilled your rear, like it’s fucking cunt…” he pounded frantically, barely breathing, face red with overgrowing pleasure. “He shoved his cock so deep inside, yeah? Like that, yeah?” he snapped his hips forward, pressing to the hilt in one frantic motion and moaned at the fantastic tightness of the hot, abused passage. “Shot his load in your stomach, made you crazy and full and wet, like a bitch in heat. I bet he couldn’t tear his eyes from your sloppy hole… shit!”

He growled, stilled deep inside of him, breathing through his nose. Bucky laid absolutely still underneath his weight, staring into space with dead eyes; sperm trickled out of him down his stomach. Rumlow pulled out with brutal force, watching in satisfaction as his cum bubbled from abused hole.

“Can’t wait for your mission to end, sweetheart,” Brock tongued his lips. “I’ll rip your tight, sweet ass to bloody shreds, I promise. Next time I’ll put there some nice and pretty vibrating plug, so you won’t forget what awaits you after the mission. It’ll be in you the whole day, promise. I want your tight ass to loosen up a bit for me. Still love it when you’re tight, but it’s time we try something new, don’t you agree?”

He smirked, kissed the Soldier’s cheek and withdrew, fixing his pants.

The next mission came eventually and he made sure to keep his promise. The Soldier spent the whole mission with the plug inside him. Finished the task, of course, but couldn’t stand still or sit at all. Rumlow barely made it to the base, drinking in the pitiful image of him, where he locked them in nearby room and yanked the plug out.

Bucky cried out and clenched the iron table he was pressed at. His metal hand left deep scratches on the surface, but Brock paid no attention to it, instead slapping Soldier hard on the ass.

The plug made him loose, Rumlow didn’t feel that awesome tightness which made him see stars, but it was his intention this time anyway. 

He fucked him hard, and fast, and just a while longer, pulled out to the tip and then burying himself as deep as possible with each sharp and brutal thrust. The Soldier clenched weakly, but his hole was too loose thanks to the plug, the muscle barely twitched.

Brock pinned him with his weight and shot his cum deep inside, whispering darkly:

“Clench your pretty ass, sweetheart”.

The Solder was barely thinking straight, too fucked up, too exhausted by the torture and pain, but tried to do as been told. Rumlow was still inside him, but the cum splattered through anyway and trickled down Soldier’s legs.

“Not good, darling,” Rumlow signed in mock disappointment, withdrew and started to clean himself.

Soldier’s knees buckled under him and he gripped the table’s edges for support. He watched Commander at the corner of his eye, hair plastered upon his face, lips impossible red and plush… He looked absolutely debauched, but Rumlow wasn’t up to round two. Maybe next time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PWP and some mind-breaking. I'm not even sorry right now.

The Soldier is right on his knees, bare-chested, in trousers and combat boots. His skin is shining with sweat – it’s hot in the room, and the Soldier is not used to such temperatures. He was trained to endure it, of course, as much as any other things.

But Rumlow doesn’t mind.

“You seem distraught” he muses suddenly, lightly slapping his own thigh with stun baton.

The Soldier head jerks, he looks at Rumlow, confused and nervous for some unknown reason.

Brock smiles a little, steps closer.

“You’re so pretty, Sweetheart” he coos, tracing his finger along Bucky’s cheek.

The Soldier somehow looks small and fragile. He’s shivering a little; Rumlow feels slight tremors in his body, standing so close now.

“You know what I want, don’t you?” he speaks in sweet voice, stoking Soldier’s hair now. “We’ve done it before and you’re ready for this. Don’t you, Soldier?”

“I…” the Soldier sounds confused, he’s clearly at loss.

He wasn’t wiped right after the mission. The wipe will start soon, of course, but right now Rumlow has him all by himself, at least for another two hours.

“Tell me,” he urges, still stroking his hair. It’s only a few moments until he’ll clench his fingers in a fist and jerk the Soldiers head.

The boy’s gonna suck his cock, naturally. Rumlow loved to grab his locks, forcing himself deeper in his throat.

“I don’t know…” the Soldier managed to say at last.

He’s trembling now.

“And what do you know, hm?” asks Brock suddenly in mock concern. “What’s your name, Soldier?”

There is a pain in Bucky’s eyes now, he lowers his head and Rumlow lets him.

“I don’t know…” he whispers.

“Of course you don’t,” Brock laughs, and the Soldier flinches, hunching in on himself even more.

“Your mission now is to want me, Soldier,” he orders “and accept what I’ll give you. So… do you want me, Soldier?”

He’s starting to undo his zipper and then there is a soft:

“No”.

Rumlow stops in his tracks, equally amused and shocked by the answer.

“What?”

The Soldier furrowed his brow as though in physical pain. Rumlow watched a break in his programming, slowly pondering what to do with this shit now.

“And what do you want?” he decided to ask. It seemed interesting: to hear the Soldier’s next answer. “Come on, you must tell me. I want to know”.

The Soldier was panting now. He looked scared and terrified by something he even couldn’t understand.

“I…” he stammered. “I…”

Rumlow was clearly enjoying the show. He didn’t give a damn about the sudden break in programming – nothing a good wipe can’t fix. But seeing Barnes in such a state… It made him hard within minutes, he barely restrained himself from fucking him in earnest.

But right now he wanted to know the answer.

And it came.

“Him…” breathed the Asset. “I… I want him”.

“And who’s that?” Brock pursed his lips.

Now that was not so funny. But anyway…

“I don’t know…” the Soldier babbled, lost and scared.

He looked at Rumlow as though begging for help, and suddenly grabbed the fabric of his trousers with both hands.

“Please…” he begged and Brock could see the tears in his pretty eyes. “Please… I want him, I want him. Where is he? Please...”

“You don’t even know who you’re talking about,” Rumlow made a quick motion and slapped him across the face.

The Soldier was crying silently now. His mind was broken and empty, but Brock didn’t give a shit about it, stripping him bare in short motions.

“Please…” the Asset managed to say once again, but Rumlow forced his surely aching cock in his mouth and no more sound came free.

When he finished, cumming on those pretty lips, the Soldier was barely thinking straight, a mix of broken “Please, please, please” flew from his mouth.

“You’re not gonna find him,” hissed Rumlow, shoving him on the floor and grabbing his ass. “You’re mine now, understand? Mine alone!”

The Soldier choked on his next words, when Brock pushed in.

“You’re a whore, nothing more,” panted Rumlow, forcing himself deeper with each thrust. The Soldier couldn’t even scream, whimpering pathetically. “Just a fuckhole for my cock”.

He came with a hiss and withdrew. The Soldier collapsed on the floor, shivering and sobbing. Brock slapped him on the ass the he cried out and clenched his hole reflexively.

“Shove two fingers in your ass,” ordered Rumlow and the Asset lifted a trembling hand. “No, a metal one. And then lick your fingers clean”.

The Asset’s eyes became glassy and empty by the fifth time. Rumlow ordered him to poke deeper and the hole now was an angry red. Sore and puffy, it still clenched every time, when the metal fingers delved in.

Rumlow stroked himself lazily, watching such performance in pure satisfaction.

“Had Cap ever licked your hole, hm?” he asked, but the Soldier, of course, stayed silent. He didn’t even hear the question, let alone understand it. “I bet you screamed your throat raw, when he did. You’re such a slut, Sweetheart”.

At last he fixed his own clothing and smiled at the Soldier.

“Shove three metal fingers all the way in, as deep as possible,” he ordered. “And stay like that until someone will tell you otherwise”.

The Soldier obeyed like a doll, empty, broken and hollow. He lay on his side, with fingers in his own ass and stayed completely dead to the world.

He didn’t even remember what he said some time ago.

His mind wiped itself without a chair.


	3. Chapter 3

Capt- Steve never touches him. Unless it's a pat on the shoulder _a flesh one_ or a rare moments of stroking his hair with fingertips. And it never lasts longer than a few minutes.

It's good and nice, and deep down he likes it, but never voices his pleasure ( _he's not ordered to, he's not supposed to feel at all_ ).

Anyway, this moments are rare. Most of the time Steve just stares at him, or smiles, or tells something about their _his_ past. The things the Asset- Bucky has no memory of.

Steve never touches him like Commander did.

Bucky doesn't understand.

He tries very hard, though. He watches and observes and listens very carefully, but there is no orders. Neither missions nor orders about... recreational purposes.

The Asset never asks, he's not supposed to question his handlers. But he doesn't understand and that's bad. He can't remember the last time he was oblivious about something, but deep down he knows that it was accompanied by pain. A lot of pain.

Incomprehension means misbehaving.

He's confused... and scared. He wants to please his Handler.

He wants to be good.

But Steve doesn't give orders and maybe he's waiting for the Asset to question him, to ask for mission, for order, and misbehave. Maybe it's some sort of foreplay before real pain.

...They're sitting on the couch and Steve's reading something on a laptop. He doesn't say anything.

The Asset feels distress. That's this feeling: he's supposed to do something. Deep down he's trembling with the effort to stay still and calm.

He doesn't understand.

He's still and silent – there were no order for him to speak – but Steve looks up anyway.

“Buck?” he asks and sets his laptop aside. “What's wrong?”

There's concern in his voice and the Asset is in trouble.

He's supposed to be good. He can't upset his handler.

His stomach hurts and there's a sick feeling somewhere in his gut. It's not because of food: he's not allowed to eat solid food, anyway (Steve said something about doctor's orders, and he is obliged to obey doctors).

“Bucky?” Steve shifts closer and faintly strokes his head and it should feel good and nice but it's not and his head hurts too and then Steve whispers “Sweetheart, what's wrong?” and the Asset freezes.

That's it. He's been bad and that's the punishment.

He tugs at the zipper of his pants, but his hands are shaking and he doesn't know why and the zipper is just stuck and fly won't open.

He's bad and scared at the same time.

There are tears and he doesn't even notice when he started to cry. He should stop, but the Commander liked it and maybe Steve will like it too. Or maybe he'll get angry.

He doesn't understand and he's suddenly so afraid that his knees are shaking.

“Bucky?” there's hurt in Steve's voice and that's really really bad.

“I'm sorry...” he says. He can't form any coherent thought right now, his head hurts and he's trembling like a leaf, and the tears just won't stop.

“Honey, please, what's the matter?” Steve sounds like he's pleading, what is even more unclear. “Are you in pain?”

He tries to answer, to tell his Handler that he's okay, he just doesn't understand what he's supposed to do, but it's like a huge bulb _a cock – a big fat cock – you like it don't you such a slut for me Sweetheart_ forced down his throat, blocking his breathing.

There is so much pain in Steve's eyes, and it's like a punch in the gut, and he feels something shatter within, breaking to a millions pieces.

What left of his mind is a mess, and he feels a surge of horror – his Handler is upset because of him.

He's damaged beyond repair.

“I'm sorry,” he barely mumbles. “Please, don't be angry, I'll be good, I'm sorry, please”.

Steve never touches him. Unless it's a pat on the shoulder _a flesh one - metal one is dead - it's a weapon - shove three fingers in your ass no a metal one and stay like that - it hurts - deeper lick your fingers clean just like that shove them down to the hilt you're feeling it don't you Sweetheart_ or a rare moments of stroking his hair with fingertips.

He should try and open his zipper. His Handler gave an order. But his own clothes are intact, and maybe he'll just use his fingers or make him do it and the Asset is scared because it'll hurt so much - he wasn't ordered to coat his fingers in saliva - and it'll be a metal hand and it'll hurt, but his Handler will be pleased, but he's afraid and there are more tears and more shaking and his hands just can't grasp the zipper tab and suddenly Steve is hugging him and he's scared he did wrong.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't understand...” he babbles and he's shaking so much that Steve's shaking with him. “Please, don't be mad at me, I'll behave, I just don't understand, please, I'm sorry”.

“Sh-h,” Steve is stroking his hair, hugging him tight and it doesn't hurt, it can actually feel nice, but he's too panicked to process it. “It's okay, I'm not angry, you did nothing wrong, Buck, sh-h, I'm here, Sweetheart, it's safe”.

He's aching all over. His Handler just strokes his hair, gently rocking him back and forth, and there is no orders right now. He's bad and disobedient and he'll have The Chair for that, but right now he's too scared and tense to think of it.

His head hurts so much, but Steve's hand is warm and soothing.

He's tired of crying and suddenly it's even hard to sit upright. Just a few strokes and Steve helps him lie down, saying all the time “You're good, you're safe” and “It's okay” and “Sweetheart”. He's shrinking in on himself every time after “Sweetheart” but there's no order and his pants are in place.

Steve says something about “panic attack” and “doctors” but he too exhausted to understand. His mind is a mess of terror and pain.

Steve kisses him on the temple and strokes his hair.

He feels tears rolling down his cheeks and Steve is soothing him, whispering apologizes and kissing his temple. The Asset is the one who should apologize, he doesn't understand. 

“I'm sorry...” his voice is small and there are more tears.

Steve just kisses him again, whispering softly:

“It'll be okay, Sweetheart”.

A tiny whimper escapes his throat. 


	4. Chapter 4

Bucky is scared – Steve’s sure about it. Anyone can tell, just by one single look at him. He’s pale, there is genuine fear in his eyes – he darts quick glances at Steve and then casts them to the floor again. Like he’s afraid even to ask or tell what’s wrong.

Steve’s heart aches so much; it’s even difficult to breathe sometimes.

He wants to wrap Bucky in his arms and never let go. Wants to stroke his hair, kiss his eyelashes and surround him in warm and peace. He wants to soothe him with kind words and gentle embrace, wants to cuddle him, to calm him with just his presence. He wants him to be happy.

But Bucky’s quiet and scared almost all the time. He trembles at first when Steve hugs him and then stills and stiffs – like if he doesn’t cease his tremors, Steve will get angry. And punish him.

Punishment. That’s all Bucky new for 70 years of horror and pain. It’s not so easy for him to believe now that the suffering ended. That no one will harm him now, no one will punish him. Steve keeps telling him it every day, every night, when Bucky wakes up from the nightmares, sweating and whimpering. The terror he feels won’t go away so simply.

The Avengers suggested a doctor – a therapist, who can help in this situation. As for Steve, he really didn’t think it was a best idea, especially now, when Bucky was so fragile and scared almost by everything. Sam suggested his friend, a very good therapist, and Steve eventually agreed. They made an appointment, but Bucky was too scared to walk away from the apartment. He trembled so hard when Steve guided him to the front door, that his teeth almost chattered.

Of course, they didn’t go anywhere. The doctor understood the circumstances and even suggested to come into their house for the beginning. Steve was relieved and grateful, and they made another appointment.

He came earlier this morning, and had a nice five-minutes chat with Steve and then the doctor politely greeted Bucky. And then there was silence, so thick and tight that Steve almost could feel it in the air.

“It’s okay,” he said in the most gentle tone, patting his shoulder – the metal one, cause this is what Bucky is now and he’ll always love all the parts of him. Every single part. For the end of his days.

Bucky was stiff and tense, and didn’t say anything. Steve stroked his shoulder, then patted his back – gentle, feather-light moves – and smiled.

“You can tell us anything, Buck. It’s okay”.

Bucky looked at him in confusion and hesitation. Steve nodded, smiling gently. Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened again.

“I’m…” he began and then faltered. Looked at Steve and finished “…Bucky?”

It should have been a response to the doctor. It should have been a greeting. Instead, it sounded like a question to the Steve. Like a question whether he was Bucky; whether his response was correct.

Steve should have said something. Should have smiled and reassured him, that, yes, indeed he is, but his voice just disappeared and there was something hot and scratchy in his eyes.

The Soldier wasn’t dumb – he realized from the look on Steve’s face that something wasn’t quite right. That he made a mistake – he’s been bad, he misbehaved, and the doctor will report the damage in the conditioning, and then the Captain – _no its’ Steve not “the Captain” he’s not his Handler he’s nice and gentle and kind and his smile is so warm he doesn’t hurt him he said it’s okay he calls him Sweetheart and there is now pain after that_ – will punish him.

He’s shaking, he’s shaking so hard, and he can’t breathe, he’s gasping for air and everything spins back and forth so fast. He barely registers someone’s hand on him and braces himself for the pain – he should be punished, that’s what his Handles do when there’s a doctor’s report. And the doctor is right here, he came here to check the Soldiers condition and then report it to the Handler, and then there will be pain – a lot of pain – because that’s what always happened after reports and doctor’s checks.

But the Captain – _Steve Handler Steve Handler_ – said it’s okay. He said there’s no pain, there’ll never be. He said he’s safe and he took him in his arms and it was so warm and gentle. He said it’s okay. He said… He brought a doctor. He brought a doctor for the checks and repairs. There’re gonna bring him in the Chair again. It’ll hurt – it hurts _all the time_ – and he’ll forget everything but his mission. His next mission.

He’s so afraid and he can’t breathe and the Captain – Steve – holds him and asks him what’s wrong, tells him to calm down, there’s “Sweetheart” – over and over – he’s shaking so much, even the metal hand, and there’s constant buzzing in his head, louder and louder with each second, and he can’t take it anymore and there’s something hot on his face and under him. _Under his body._

Something hot and dripping, sticky on his legs. There’s smell – and realization.

Of course, the doctor understood. He left quickly after Steve asked him to. They both exchanged apologizes, but Steve never said anything about another appointment. They both understood that it was too early.

Bucky was gripped with terror. He looked at Steve and opened his mouth to say something. “I’m sorry”, that is. Steve guided him gently in the bathroom, stripped from his soaked clothes and washed with gentle strokes. He wrapped him in the soft towel and then stroked his hair. There were tears and he kissed his Sweethearts’ cheek.

Bucky trembled in his arms and didn’t say anything. Steve guided him in his arms, stroking his back and hair, whispering soothing words.

“It’s okay, everything’s fine, I’m not mad at you, I’ll never will be. You did nothing wrong, don’t be afraid, I’m here, I’m with you, there’ll be no pain, I promise”.

He brushed damp hair from Bucky’s forehead and looked him right in the eyes. The fear and pain in there were still present – his heart very time shattered anew – but something else too. Something like uncertainty, and confusion, and – a tiny little bit of hope, maybe? Or it was just Steve’s imagination. But right now he wanted to believe that Bucky felt something besides terror and distress.

Steve kissed his temple and stroked his cheek.

“I love you”.

Bucky cocked his head slightly – right in his palm. Involuntary gesture but it was small victory.

They returned in the bedroom and Steve helped Bucky to change in soft, clean clothes. He asked for one minute and quickly cleaned the piss from the living room. Bucky waited for him, hugging himself and shaking a little. Steve coped as quickly as he could, changed his own clothes and quickly returned to Bucky.

His friend glanced at him when Steve sat next to him – they shoulders almost touching – and slowly, shaky placed his hand on Steve’s elbow. Then quickly jerked it away, looking at him in fear. Steve took his hand and kissed every tip of every finger.

“Sweetheart, dear one, you can tell me anything”, he whispered, voice thick with affection and love. “I’m here for you. You were afraid of the doctor? I should have thought twice, I’ve read your files and I know what doctors means to you. I’m sorry, I’m deeply sorry”.

He kissed his hand again, then placed the palm over his heart.

“This beats for you”, maybe it sounded melodramatic, maybe naïve – he couldn’t care less. He loved the man in front of him, and would tear the world apart for his sake. “My every bone, every drop of blood – they’re yours. I’ll give it to you if you ask. I’ll give you myself, whole, in the flesh…”

Bucky blinked and confusion appeared on his face. He hesitated, looking at Steve for permission to open his mouth.

“You can tell me anything, Sweetheart. What it is?”

“You’re…” the Soldier trembled slightly after “Sweetheart”, he still didn’t understand what to do – what the Captain wants – after this word has been spoken. 

“Your bones… and… and flesh, I- I can’t take them”, he muttered. “There must be a surgery for this task and I- I’m not a… I can’t…”

He stared at Steve helplessly, as if he gets mad because of lack of skills in this area. 

Steve chuckled – couldn’t help it. Bucky was so childlike at the moment, so innocent… Steve never thought he could love this man as much as he loved him the whole life. But now he loved him ten times stronger. And maybe it wasn’t his limit.

“It’s okay, honey”, he kissed his hair and gently stroked his back. “You’re okay, nothing’s wrong. Just… every time you need something, or you want to tell me something, or if something bothers you or causes you pain… you can tell me all about it. And more. You can tell me everything. I know who you are, I love you and I’ll never stop loving you. Never”.

The Soldier thinks a few seconds, his delicate features mixed with confusion and puzzlement.

“You…” he said slowly. “You love Bucky”.

Steve presses his forehead to Bucky’s.

“I love _you_ ”, he smiled.

“I’m… Bucky?” the Soldier sounded almost embarrassed to his own ears.

“No, Sweetheart, You’re the one you want to be”, Steve straightened and stroked his cheek once again.

The Soldier didn’t understand. He can’t be the one he wants to be – he doesn’t understand what “to want” means. He never wanted anything. He never loved anything or anyone. He doesn’t understand what love is. There is no such knowledge in him. There is no memory at all. The Captain – _Steve Steve Steve_ – never gives orders. Never punishes him.

The Capt- Steve loves him. He said it.

He’s not a Mission anymore. He’s not a Handler ( _he must be he must be there must be a Handler he’ll misbehave without orders he’ll be bad he’ll be damaged there must be someone someone_ ). He’s the Captain. Steve. Steve.

The Winter Soldier. Bucky.

Bucky. The Winter Soldier.

He loves him. They (I) don’t understand what love is. But…

_I love you._

“I…” he whispers. “I don’t…”

“I know”, Steve strokes his hair, gently, soothingly. “It’s okay”.

His smile is soft and bright. He’s like a sun. _I love you._ He’s gentle and kind. He’s nice and his hands are warm. They won’t hurt him. He won’t hurt him.

The Soldier _Bucky_ leans forward, then stills for a second ( _scared, he’s so scared_ ) and hesitatingly – warily – presses himself at Steve’s chest. He trembles a little; like he’s afraid Steve will shake him off in disgust or punch him for this.

But then there are warm hands on him and they hug him tightly. 

It doesn’t hurt.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I thought I'm done with Bucky in pain in these fic. I intended to add some kind of hope in this chapter. Oh, yes, failure, once again. I'm sorry, there are a lot of mistakes, a lot of pain and no hope. For the time being. Maybe later.  
> I'll try to update sooner.

Anxiety. He's feeling it deep down and there's nothing he can do to suppress this. It's like goosebumps that won't stop no matter what. And he's so tired. He's tired to be scared.

Sometimes there's a tiny, barely audible whispers inside his mind (he doesn't even have a mind – it's called a “conditioning”, it's not “mind”, he has no right to think, to want, he's a weapon – a thing – and it can not think) that keep telling him something he can't even comprehend, because there are no words, just voices and noise. Sometimes they scream – at night mostly, when horrors and nightmares are so vivid he's sure he can see them lurking in the shadows of the room.

And every time there are accidents. He'll toss and turn and scream and then there'll be this sickening warmth on his thighs and legs. And Steve will come in – he always does. He'll help him get in the bath, help him wash (the Soldier has no right to wash himself – there are rules called “special treatment” and _they_ washed him before – it has always been fast and a water was cold every time) and then dress him and take him to his own room.

Steve will hold him and speak. He'll tell him something from their past. He won't ask if the Soldier remembered – he knows already that he doesn't. There are no memories, no sparks of recognition inside him from these stories. He's blank and empty, hollow and broken. He's drenched in blood and piss and come – and no amount of warm water (bubbles – Steve likes bubbles and told him once that they never had much bubble baths in the past) could wash that away.

But he does not say it out loud. He's not dumb. Steve will be upset. He'll smile – he always does that too – and tell him it's okay, he's not dirty, he's safe now and he's a person and everything will be fine from now on. But there will be pain in his eyes – pain and sadness – and Steve never should feel it. Steve is important – he's the most important in the world. He's the world himself. He must be happy – the Soldier is sure about that. It's his Mission to make Steve happy.

And so he listens and keeps his mouth shut. Even if he doesn't understand...

There are many things he doesn't understand now. There were Missions and orders before – and that he understood perfectly. Simple words, commands and tasks – they were imprinted in his brain. His brain is hollow and when the Mission came they placed it in this emptiness. He finished it and there would be a Chair and then he'd be hollow again. They'd freeze him and wake him again and the cycle would repeat itself again and again.

Steve never does that and emptiness is there all the time now. Sometimes it fills with something – but it quickly fades away. He's scared almost by everything – except Steve, he's not afraid of Steve – and these tiny fills has no result.

He's so tired. He barely sleeps, he still can't eat solid food... And Steve is sad, even though he's trying not to show it.

The Soldier is a failure. He's malfunctioning. He has to bite his own tongue from begging for the Chair. He has to be wiped and re-programmed. He has to be. But Steve will be even sadder then. He clearly doesn't want him to be wiped again.

He doesn't want him at all. Not in any way _they_ did.

He calls him “Sweetheart” and sometimes he kisses his hair, or his hand, or just presses their foreheads together and keeps his eyes shut. The Soldier stills and waits. He waits patiently – he's ready, he listens to the command. It comes every time.

“Sweetheart”.

It's an order – a code to behave, to spread his legs, to open his mouth, to shove metal fingers inside his own ass, to lick boots, to suck cock, to do everything Steve tells him.

Steve never tells him that. Maybe he waits for him to make first move. The Soldier almost made it once: he made a mess one night and Steve helped him wash as always and then the Soldier stepped from the bath and stood there naked and flush from the warm shower. His cock was flaccid though, but there was nothing he could do about it – he became hard just one single time, when the Commander tied him to the bed and began strange manipulations with his shaft. There was such intense and painful feeling – he screamed and cried from it. Then he knew nothing – as if someone switched the world off. Darkness enveloped him and he woke up in cryo, ready for the next Mission. He never got hard again after that.

But he made no move to cover himself before Steve. His body was on display, ready to be used. Steve came forward and enveloped him in soft towel. The Soldier didn't understand. When Steve gave him clothes and smiled “I'll be in the kitchen, Buck, let's have an early breakfast” he didn't understand. Steve left him in the bathroom.

He changed automatically – his hands were shaking so hard it took him ages to even get in the pants. He barely made it to the kitchen – his legs weak. Steve smiled and placed a bowl with some food before him – he couldn't even comprehend what was it – “There you go, Sweetheart” – and then he was crying so hard he couldn't breathe.

He never understands. There is no order like “Explain yourself!”. Steve just keeps soothing him, hugging him. He does have a question “Are you in pain? What's the matter, Sweetheart?” but the Soldier couldn't explain. He doesn't understand it himself. The Commander never asked him before. He already knew what to do when the Soldier was placed in his care.

Steve clearly doesn't intend to use him like that. The Soldier must make him happy. Maybe sex with the Soldier won't make him happy at all.

But he's scared he misunderstood. Maybe Steve wanted something from him anyway. He worried so hard after that accident he made himself sick. He couldn't process any food – even water – and threw up almost everything by three whole days. Steve was so pale and sad, he even called a doctor – someone from his friends – but the Soldier cried and begged and babbled – _I'll be good I'll be good please don't tell a doctor I'll be okay please I won't made a mistake again I'll behave please don't please_ – and the doctor never came.

Steve's eyes were red and swollen by the third day – he never cried in front of the Soldier but he locked himself in the bathroom a few times when he thought the Soldier was sleeping.

On the fourth day he was better. Steve shined like a sun when he didn't puke his breakfast.

Steve called him “Sweetheart” again after that. And again and again. He never stopped.

The Soldier is so tired. His head hurts almost everyday now. Dread and anxiety – those are his main feelings. And lassitude. He closes his eyes when Steve hugs him and tries to melt into his arms, to will his horrors away. It never works.

It became worse when Steve is called on a mission.

It's not like any Missions the Soldier ever had. Steve tells him that it's not a mission at all – it's a job, a duty, to protect people and keep the world safe. And no one ordered Steve to get it – he chose it himself. Because he's Captain America – an Avenger. The Soldier doesn't really understand what that means – he thought that “avenging” means “to take the change out of a person” but Steve smiled and shook his head “I'll explain later, Bucky, don't worry”.

But the mission came eventually and something was awfully wrong from the first moment Steve got the message on his phone. The Soldier tensed and tried not to shake too hard.

His body was wracked with tremors but he kept his mouth shut.

“I have to go, Buck” Steve gently touched his shoulder. A metal one.

He always does that. He’s not afraid to touch it (he shouldn’t be – he’ll never use it on Steve again, he’ll never harm him, Steve is precious – he’s important, he’s _everything_ ).

There is some kind of emotion in his eyes. The Soldier’s trying to process it, to understand, but it’s too deep. Steve’s good at hiding his negative emotions – he always looks happy when they are together, even if it’s forced sometimes.

He wants “Bucky” back. Even though he told him “You’re the one you want to be”.

Steve doesn’t tell lies. He’s honest and kind. _He’s everything_. But he deserves to be happy, and for him “Bucky” means happiness.

The Soldier looks like Bucky. But they are not the same person. He watched Bucky in the museum and Steve told him almost everything about what kind of person he was in the past. But there are no memories – no mind – and Bucky is dead. He can’t be the weapon the Winter Soldier is. He can’t be the Winter Soldier at all. He was a good man, Steve told that, and the Soldier neither “good” nor “man”. He’s a thing. A weapon. He has no emotions, no thoughts – nothing.

He doesn’t want Steve to go.

He’s not supposed “to want”. But he’s _so_ tired. 

“I’ll return as soon as I can” Steve places soft palm on his cheek. He’s smiling but it’s filled with so much concern that the Soldier can almost feel it himself.

He tries to answer – to tell something. It’s rude to stand still and silent when Hand- Steve is waiting. He must tell him “Go, I’ll wait here”. He must.

His throat just won’t work. And his voice is gone. He can’t even breathe, almost gasping.

Steve’s not smiling anymore. He looks like he’s afraid.

“Bucky?”

His throat is so tight it’s like that time when the Commander shoved his cock deep inside his mouth and stayed like that too long for him to adjust. _A cockslut should always has a cock right here_ , he mocked and tapped his throat – right where the tip was. The Soldier jerked his head away and threw up and the Commander was angry. He was furious and it hurts so much – everything he made him do after that.

Steve will never do that. The Soldier knew it. But he’s so scared now and he can’t even understand why.

“Sweetheart, tell me, what’s wrong?” Steve’s begging and there is so much pain in his eyes now the Soldier can’t bear it.

He tries to say “I’m sorry” or “Steve” or “Please, don’t go” or maybe something else he can’t even think of. His mind is not empty now – there is a mess, so huge, his head feels like it’s on fire.

He’s crying and his legs are so weak he can’t even stand anymore. Steve’s hugging him, they end up kneeling on the floor but it’s too hard to notice something when he’s crying so hard he can’t even gasp.

Steve keeps telling him something but the boozing in his head is so loud – he doesn’t hear anything. He’s shaking, trembling, clutching onto Steve like he’s a lifeline.

And he _is_.

_I’m sorry I’m sorry_ – he’s not sure he says it out loud or it’s just an endless flow of these words in his sore brain.

“Sweetheart” Steve’s voice breaks this awful ringing and there are soft lips on his hair.

He looks up, tears, snot and spit on his face.

Steve’s everything. The Soldier will go mad without him. He’ll go insane.

He tries to speak. To plead. To beg.

“Steve” he manages to mouth. He’s not sure his voice is back.

And just like that Steve nods. His face is firm and earnest.

“I won’t go anywhere” his voice is so strong, but his eyes are kind when he looks right at him. “The world I want to save is right here, in my arms”.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a huge time-gap between updates and I'm really sorry for it. I've had some terrible mood swings and then I even stopped practising my English, so this chapter is really messy and I'm still in need of good proof-reader, so forgive me for the late update and for mistakes. I'll do better next time. The next chapter is almost done, I'll do my best to post it as soon as possible.

They are hugging – for how long Steve doesn't know. It doesn't matter anyway.

He held Bucky in his arms since that incident at the door, when he was about to leave. His team waited and the world needed him again, but... When one first tear slid down Bucky's face, he instantly knew that this time the world will wait. As long as it takes, because his real world cried in his arms.

Steve couldn't and wouldn't leave Bucky. Not ever.

So they ended up in his own room – he couldn't even remember how they managed to walk here in the first place – and Bucky was pressed to him this entire time. They broke body contact a few times – for a bathroom and for a change of clothes. And then Steve wrapped arms around his trembling friend and held him tightly.

At first, Bucky shook so hard, even his teeth chattered. Steve held him and constantly whispered “I'm here”, “You're safe”, “I love you” and everything else from his heart. Bucky clutched onto him, buried his face somewhere in the crook of his neck and tried so hard just to breathe... Every once in a while he would mouth “Steve” - broken and barely audible, but enhanced hearing helped each and every time. Steve would kiss his soft hair “I'm here, Sweetheart, I'm right here” and a new tremor would be just a little bit shorter than a previous one.

At some point Bucky fell asleep – Steve only hoped he didn't lost consciousness from exhaustion – and his body relaxed, warm and pliant. Steve carefully eased him on his back, wrapped in a blanket and his own arms and let himself close eyes and rest. Bucky needed him so he would be strong.

When he opened eyes it was morning, gray and quiet, and he vaguely hoped that they slept through entire night. Bucky was still heavy in his arms and Steve risked another kiss to his hair.

“Steve...” he heard then and placed next kiss in answer.

Bucky's voice was so soft, almost childlike, and Steve's heart ached for him. He would do anything for this man.

“I'm here,” he gently said, running his palms up and down Bucky's back.

“You're here,” Bucky clenched his shirt.

“Of course. I'm always here for you,” he almost felt the weight of his own words, the truth and honest they projected.

Bucky sighed, then shifted a little and Steve helped him sit, without breaking their embrace. Bucky's hair framed his face and he stared somewhere onto Steve's shoulder.

“Are you cold?” they tossed the blanket away when sat, and Bucky wasn't trembling, but Steve had to ask.

“You're warm,” Bucky mumbled, his voice still so weak and small, but the answer made Steve smile. 

“Good,” he gently cupped Bucky's face, tucking his hair away from his eyes and mouth.

His friend looked and him and then sighed again, closing his eyes and pressing his cheek right into Steve's palm. And Steve felt this powerful wave of love wash through him again and again. He wanted nothing more than to hug him so tight that no power in the whole galaxy could tear them apart.

“Steve?..” Bucky asked hesitantly, now looking at him and shifted his palm above Steve's heart.

“Right here, Sweetheart,” he smiled again. “Are you okay? Does it hurt somewhere?”

“No...” Bucky sighed again and laid his head on Steve's shoulder, closing eyes for a moment. “You're here...”

“Always, Bucky,” Steve pressed cheek in his soft hair, relishing this moment of calm and some sort of happiness. “Till the end of the line, remember?”

It was some sort of rhetoric question and he really didn't hope for an answer but suddenly get one.

“I remember...” Bucky whispered. “You...”

Steve's heart skipped a bit and some 16-year-kid-from-Brooklin part of him wanted to know what exactly Bucky remembered, how much and so on and so forth, but he knew, almost instantly, that even if Bucky won't remember – ever – it won't change anything. He has his friend back, he will make sure that Bucky is safe, he'll protect him no matter what even if Bucky will never be whoever he used to be. Steve loves him anyway, every old and every new part of him.

“You don't have to push yourself, Buck,” he assured gently, caressing his hair now. “Don't try to remember if it's too hard. It'll get there someday, and even if it won't – it's okay”.

“You were a man on a bridge,” Bucky said and sat straighter to look Steve in the eye. “I couldn't stop thinking about you”.

Then a slight tremor coursed through his body and Steve instantly hugged him tightly, but Bucky managed to turn his head to hold eye contact.

“They wanted me to forget... Again...” his voice trembled a little too, making Steve's heart clench. “I had The Chair for asking who you were”.

“Sweetheart...” Steve felt as though someone punched him right in the gut, his asthma was back and he couldn't breathe properly.

“But I remembered you,” Bucky sat straighter again, leaning back a little and looking at Steve without ever present fear in his eyes. “I saw you again after that. You were my Mission. But you were a man on a bridge. I was supposed to be blank and empty, but you were there...”

He pressed palm in his own hair.

“There were only you...” he quietly finished and blinked, as though snapped out of some trance. He looked even surprised, as Steve himself, because it was the longest speech he had since Steve found him.

“I...” he looked almost scared again. “I'm...”

“No,” Steve grabbed him in one swift motion, hugging, holding, burying face in his hair and feeling his own heart would explode any minute. “Don't say you're sorry, please. You did nothing wrong, you don't have to apologize. It's on me. It's my fault you were hurt so long. I couldn't protect you in the end...” he choked on his own words, voice almost breaking.

This ever-consuming guilt was back and he felt deep dull ache inside. Bucky – scared, helpless and so hurt – was in his arms now, but Steve couldn't make it better. No amount of words would erase the fact that his precious person was hurt so much because of him.

Yeah, it was on him.

 

Steve is upset – he made him this way. The Soldier felt a wave of horror wash through him. He disobeyed, he made a mistake, his Han...

No, Steve is upset. Because the Soldier's not Bucky. And because he told him about The Chair. And because... because...

Steve said he don't have to be sorry. The Soldier didn't understand. He was a fist of HYDRA, he was an asset and he carried out missions, which Steve wouldn't approve. The Captain is a good man, he saves the world and protects people. The Soldier doesn't deserve him, doesn't deserve his attention or his kindness.

But Steve... he is everything for the Soldier. He gave him a name – Bucky – and even though the Soldier doesn't remember he is... happy? He doesn't have a clue what “happiness” is but he thinks this is Steve. He feels good when he's with Steve. He's afraid he'll do something wrong and he's still waiting for punishment and The Chair and everything else, but Steve is good. And nice. And he doesn't hurt him. And his hands are so strong and warm and the Soldier feels... calm when Steve holds him.

He didn't want to upset Steve. He wanted to make him smile. He didn't knew how but Steve likes when he remembers him and so he thought that telling him of his failing as an asset will make Steve happy. And he told him the truth.

The Secretary didn't want him to remember anything except his duty as an asset. He told him about HYDRA, the world, chaos and freedom - the Soldier didn't really remember the whole speech. He didn't listen. All he thought was Steve. He kept thinking about his face, and how he called him “Bucky”. This word triggered vague snippets of... memories? Hallucinations? The Soldier didn't know and couldn't even think of that. All he knew was The Man on the bridge.

All he could think of was Steve.

Steve is everything for him. The Soldier doesn't know how was it when he was “Bucky” but deep down he let himself think that Steve was his whole world from the very beginning.

It feels right. Nothing else is, but this feels really right.

And now his world – the very meaning of his own existence – is sad. The Soldier made him suffer and all his emptiness, all his void are gone in a rush. There are screaming, howling, and white hot pain.

_Please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I wanted to make you happy, I'm sorry I'm broken and malfunctioning, please, I'll do anything, don't look like that, I'm sorry, you're everything, please, don't be sad, Steve, Steve, Steve..._

He tried to say something, he didn’t even know exactly what – just to make Steve happy again.

_Please, don’t be sad._

_I’m sorry._

_I lo…_

“Steve,” he managed to croak and then heard ringing – short and loud. It startled him – scared him. And from the look on Steve’s face he was surprised too.

“Ah, it’s my phone,” he said then, and quickly stood in one swift motion. The Soldier jerked after him on a reflex – Steve’s warmth was gone and he felt torn apart, as if someone just ripped him in half.

“Yes?” meanwhile Steve picked his phone.

“Cap, there’s an emergency,” enhanced hearing allowed the Soldier to hear every word from unknown person, with whom Steve was talking, but even so he tried not to listen. He didn’t have any right to.

“Sam…” Steve’s voice was odd. Soft and tired. The Soldier started shaking – it was his fault. All this…

“It’s Rumlow, Steve,” he heard suddenly and the world just stopped. “We’ve caught him. And now we really need you here”.

Rumlow. Brock Rumlow.

The Commander.

“Sweetheart” the Soldier heard his voice as though The Commander was here now and suddenly the air became so heavy and thick he didn’t even know how to breathe properly.

Steve shifted and sighed and the Soldier made himself sit still. He couldn’t show how scared he was – Steve was upset enough already. He couldn’t make him suffer even more.

“You know I can’t, Sam. And even if I could… There is no point in me there”.

“We couldn’t crack him, Cap. Not even Natasha”.

“You know too well I’m not an interrogation expert,” Steve shook his head a little, which was odd – it wasn’t video-call and this man – Sam – couldn’t see him.

“That’s not the point, isn’t it?” the voice became gentler. “It’s him, right?”

And then Steve was looking the Soldier right in the eye. His own eyes were still sad, but… there was something else, something the Soldier had no knowledge of.

“Yes,” Steve’s own voice was so gentle and calm, yet so firm and strong… The Soldier felt his warmth all over again, as if he was in his strong embrace anew. “Tell the team I’m sorry, but I can’t leave now. I won’t”.

Sam’s sigh was loud and the Soldier flinched. But Steve placed his palm on the metal shoulder and he relaxed a little. 

Steve was here.

“I’ll do my best, man,” the voice held some tone to it, but the Soldier tried not to think about the meaning. Everything that mattered was Steve, not someone else. “Call you soon” and the connection ended.

Steve’s hand was on him again almost the same second and the Soldier pressed into him tightly, clutching his shirt and squeezing eyes shut.

“I’m here,” Steve whispered in his hair, and then he felt a kiss. “I’m right here, Sweetheart”.

Rumlow’s face was like a flash then and the Soldier almost whimpered. He held onto Steve – his only lifeline – and tried not to think, not to remember. Tried to make his brain empty again.

It didn’t work.

“Its okay, Sweetheart, its okay. I won’t go anywhere. I’m here, don’t be afraid,” Steve shushed him, hugged him, kissed him and the Soldier wanted to scream, to beg, to plead, to melt into him, to make everything possible and impossible – just to have Steve here forever. Just not to leave his arms ever.

_I’m yours,_ he wanted to say but his voice was gone again and the Soldier wanted to cry. _Please, don’t leave me. I’ve always been yours, Steve…_

“Steve,” he whimpered and buried face in the crook of his neck.

He heard Steve’s breath; he felt his arms and kisses, but he couldn’t open his eyes. Otherwise the Commander would be there – right in front of him.

The Soldier didn’t want to remember but right now his mind wasn’t empty anymore.


End file.
